Lessons
by Wandering Namekian
Summary: The Riddler attempts to hide on of his many trophies on top of a guard tower at Arkham Asylum himself, while the asylum is still running, despite his lack of stealth or acrobatic talent, gets in over his head, and actually learns something from his mistake. Set before the events of the first game Riddler and Scarecrow friendship/alliance.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Batman.

**Author's Note:** So, anyone who has read my other Batman work will be moderately familiar with the format. This one doesn't really have a pairing, I think it more implies friendship. Anyway, the game totally implies that they were both out free on the grounds before the events of the game begin, so it's not impossible to believe they were working together. And Scarecrow was only in his weird, creepy hideout inside the elevator shaft in the Secure Transit in Intensive Treatment. And Riddler knew where that hideout was. And there were two chairs in it. And there was a computer hacked into the security system in there. Crane doesn't know how to do that shit. It's completely feasible that Edward was there.

Anyway, I wrote this for the Riddler Big Bang on LiveJournal. That was like a month ago, more than that. I suck for not putting it up sooner. Oh well, at least this one is in the Arkham Asylum/City section of the website, where it belongs. Small victories.

**Date: Two Weeks Before **_**Arkham Asylum**_

**Edward's POV**

This wouldn't be so hard. The guards at Arkham were slightly less competent than lobotomized weasels, after all. Edward walked in and out of there like he owned the place all the time. Putting a few trophies around without _them_ noticing wouldn't exactly be a challenge. He was annoyed by having to do it himself, but Jon had said he could see no practical point in putting the trophies on top of guard towers. Edward had always thought that Jon's greatest flaw though was his inability to understand the proper balance of form and function (his tendency to become disorganized when working being an extension of that important misunderstanding). Edward blamed it on the fact that the man had grown up in the cultural and aesthetic wasteland known as Georgia.

It wasn't that the man lacked all sense of culture, Edward supposed (he had his strange fascination with English Country Dance, after all). Edward had tried to explain the mathematical ratio regarding the various hiding places for the trophies and riddles, relating the difficulty and danger of acquiring them. If he had ones that were easy, he also needed ones that were difficult, and the top of the guard tower was simply the best location, given that Joker would probably fill the towers with his own men, making them moderately difficult for Batman to get to.

There was also an aspect of timing that was quite pleasing about this particular challenge. If Batman was cognizant enough to find them the first time that he was able to get out onto the grounds, it was doubtful that Joker would be able to have armed snipers in the towers. If, however, he was complacent, getting to them later would become much more difficult. It was perfect, really. He _had _to put a trophy there. He might even need to put one on another guard tower in another part of the grounds: effectively doubling the reward for acting early and the punishment for acting late. Oh, yes: he was _definitely_ doing that.

He'd been rather dismayed at Jon's inability to see how perfect the idea was, and his unwillingness to simply trust Edward's brilliance and help anyway. Sure, this was Edward's plan, but they'd started working together because they'd realized that both of their plans could benefit from one another's abilities and resources. Jon had athletic talent and martial ability, while Edward had technological skills and large amounts of money. And _this_ was the part of the plan that involved athletic talent. It wasn't as if Edward was _completely _athletically disinclined, but his skills as an escape artist and contortionist had hardly prepared him for the task of running and climbing around the grounds of Arkham Asylum like a monkey.

**Six Hours Earlier (Outside POV)**

"No."

"What?" Edward sounded more surprised than irritated.

"I said, '_no,_'" Jonathan said again, this time more condescendingly. He didn't even looking up from the hood he was stitching.

"But you _said_ you would help!" Edward _was_ irritated now. It was the irritation of a small child who had been denied something he wanted.

"I've hidden more than twenty of those infernal things. At increasing personal peril, I might add. I _have_ helped."

When Edward spoke again, he sounded a bit more desperate, but also more annoyed, giving his voice an almost whiny quality that caused Jonathan to visibly wince. "But _I _can't hide the rest on my own! That's the sort of thing _you're_ supposed to do!"

"I'm pretty sure hiding flashy, expensive toys for Batman to play with is nowhere in my M.O. ...Now, if you wanted to hide affordable, slightly threatening toys, such as voodoo dolls of his friends and allies that were reminiscent of scarecrows, to frighten him, _that's_ something I would do." Jonathan was silent for a moment, almost looking a bit hopeful before his expression grew bored again. When he spoke, he was more making a statement than asking a question. "You're not planning on doing anything like that, are you?"

"Would it get you to put these trophies on top of the guard tower?"

Jonathan sighed and looked back at the costume he was sewing.

"Come on, Jon! You _have_ to do it!"

"No. It's unnecessarily dangerous."

"You do unnecessarily dangerous things all the time!"

"Like the last twenty of those ridiculous things I hid, you mean?" Jonathan muttered too quietly for Edward to hear him. "...I do dangerous things that aren't going to get me killed, Edward. You know that. Those guards aren't Batman, and they have sniper rifles and shoot to kill permissions. This," he held up the hood he was working on, "isn't exactly bulletproof."

"Well, that's not _my_ fault! I _offered_ to buy you a better costume! You're the one who wanted to run around shirtless on Arkham Island with only burlap for protection!"

"If you can find a costume that looks more frightening than I do shirtless, I promise I'll wear it."

Edward looked at Jonathan's veiny arm muscles, then to the clearly visible ribs that dropped off into his almost non-existent waist, clearly lacking a response. Edward then folded his arms petulantly. "Fine! I'll do it myself then!"

Jonathan looked up at him, his face somewhere between amused, annoyed and possibly a little concerned. "That's a _joke_, right? You've been spending too much time talking to Joker about his hair-brained little scheme. You should watch out, his banal sense of humor seems to be catching."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "Anything that can be done with athletic talent can be done equally well with intellect and proper planning. Better even!"

"Now, I _know_ that one was a joke."

At this point, Edward seemed overcome by arrogance. "I'm sure _I_ can do it easily. Those guards are complete idiots, after all."

"Why don't you just put the trophy somewhere else?"

"I can't do that! There's a very specific equation that I use to calculate the relative difficulty and danger involved in finding and acquiring the trophies, and the guard tower is the prefect location for the level of difficulty and danger in both location and acquisition to balance out the one that I put behind the grate in the Medical Building." Edward quickly grabbed the piece of paper from his own neat stack in their hideout (which he kept far away from Jonathan's sprawl of notes). As he leaned over to show it to Jonathan, his tie hung down over the paper, obstructing Jonathan's view. "See?"

Jonathan looked up for brief moment, his eyes narrowing a bit at the tie, which he pushed out of the way, rather deliberately. He then looked at the paper full of complicated looking equations, as if considering attempting to understand, before realizing a moment later that it was hardly worth the effort required.

"Putting the trophy somewhere else would ruin _everything!_" Edward said, as if it were now completely obvious.

"Do you really think Batman would _notice_? He's not exactly skilled in highly advanced mathematics. He's a detective."

"That's hardly the point! I'll find a way to do it! You'll see!" Edward took out two of the trophies that were stored in boxes around them, then began to make his way out of their small hideout and into the ventilation shaft.

"And where do you think you're going?" Jonathan asked.

"Why do you care? You're not helping me, remember?"

"You're going to get yourself shot."

"I don't recall asking for your opinion, Crane. If I ever actually _want_ the perspective of a narrow-minded farm boy, though, I'll be sure to give you a call."

Jonathan looked up, as if considering responding, but then looked back at his sewing, only muttering to himself once Edward was out of earshot, "...Idiot."

**Present (Edward's POV)**

Edward pressed his back against the wall of the rock surrounding the Intensive Treatment building. He'd managed to get out through a shaft that let out into the tunnels that allowed access between Arkham East and Arkham North. Now, all he had to do was get to the guard tower, well to the top of it. Without being seen. And then back down and inside Intensive Treatment. This would be simple.

He made his way along the rocks until he reached a large bush, diving into it for cover. He flinched a bit from the feeling of the leaves brushing against the back of his neck. He wasn't used to being in prolonged contact with nature like this. Again, this was what Jon was for, with his farm upbringing and all.

Edward looked out onto the lawn as the sun began to set. He'd picked sunset, because sunrise and sunset were the times of worst outdoor visibility (as the eyes were constantly attempting to adjust to the changing light). The guards would have a much harder time spotting him now. Sunset was preferable to sunrise, because, in case he took too long, he had a better chance of sneaking back in at night than he did during the day.

Edward looked out at the lawn. He saw the small structures on the ground that had once been designed to house guards, but had long since been replaced by the large towers. They were only occupied now during recreation when the inmates were allowed to go out. They had security gates on them, which prevented anyone from getting into them without the proper access codes.

Luckily, such matters were of no concern to someone of Edward's skill and brilliance. He took a small electronic device out of his pocket. It was basically a cell phone modified to access the island's security system as an administrator. He pulled up the network security grid, quickly following the rather complicated series of lines to the one he wanted, and tapped the screen to deactivate it, turning the dot from red to green.

Edward smirked a bit, then tapped one of the small buttons on the side of his glasses, which allowed him to get a better look at the guards in the towers. He'd need to wait for a moment when neither of them would be looking at the small stretch between his current hiding place and the small structure. If he timed it perfectly, he would make it into the structure without a problem (and he could drop a trophy off while there).

He watched both guards for a few minutes, quickly analyzing their patterns. The one in the far tower surveyed the grounds in thirty-two second cycles, the one in the closest tower had a slightly shorter cycle, of twenty-six seconds. The guard in the far tower focused mainly on the other side of the grounds, while the closer guard seemed to be watching Intensive Treatment and the access tunnels. There was a moment they overlapped, while the far guard looked back toward the Arkham West access tunnel, and the closer guard's gaze was focused there as well.

From the moment their sweeps overlapped, Edward had twenty-three seconds until the first guard could see him, and twenty-seven until the second guard could. He didn't need to get _inside_ the structure, just close to it. Neither of them could see _through_ it, so as long as he wasn't out in the open by the time they swept his general location, he would be fine. He should be able to make it to the wall of the structure in under twenty-one seconds: plenty of time.

He watched the patterns a few more times to reassure himself they weren't changing in any significant way. That was the problem with people. Robots didn't change search patterns, but humans could be terribly unpredictable (if deeply unintelligent) creatures. But these seemed to be somewhat constant. He readjusted his glasses so that he could see normally again, and took a deep breath and waited for the next overlap point, which came and went: leaving Edward still hiding in the (increasingly itchy) bush.

What was wrong with him? This was all planned. Although he was beginning to wonder why he hadn't taken off his bright green jacket with its purple accents, it did make him rather noticeable. He supposed he could leave them here. No, that would make it obvious he'd been here, after all. No one even knew he was still on the island. He couldn't do that. He was being ridiculous, his plans were perfect. And it wasn't like he was facing Batman, these were idiot Arkham guards: barely sentient life-forms.

No. He wasn't going to fail. And he certainly wasn't going to fail because he was _afraid_. He couldn't give Jon the satisfaction. Edward looked back out onto the lawn, waiting for the next opportunity. He watched as the laser sights of the rifles overlapped, then sprinted as fast as he could over to the building, almost slamming into the wall, he'd been running so fast. Nineteen seconds though, he'd made it with time to spare.

Edward pressed his back against the wall of the small shelter as he caught his breath. He hadn't even been running for half a minute. Even _he _couldn't be exhausted after that little exertion. Still, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he reached up to wipe away the perspiration from his forehead. He looked down at the trophies in his hands: his hands were shaking. No. He wasn't afraid. His plan was _working_, after all: he'd made it all the way to the ground station.

Pressing his back to the brick of the building, he slide along the wall around it. He was perfectly hidden by the overhang of the roof, as well as the nearby plant life. As he'd already deactivated the security gate on the door, he was able to make his way inside easily. He put one of the trophies he was holding down on the desk. There. In a way, he was really half done already. Edward felt himself smiling a bit. And Jon had thought this would be so hard.

Edward looked up at the guard tower, beginning to formulate the next phase of his plan. There were stairs up to the top, although they were metal. It was possible that he would make noise walking up them that could attract attention. It probably wouldn't be loud enough to be heard if he took off his boots, but what was he supposed to do? Go around barefoot like Jonathan did? That was crazy. He knew how to take light steps. It would be fine, as long as he didn't get absent-minded, and it was hardly as if _that_ was a risk.

Sticking to the bushes for cover, Edward made his way to the stairs and began to creep slowly up them. His boots clanked against the stairs, but not loud enough to be heard over the ambient noise of the wind and the sound of the waves from Gotham Bay that beat up against the island's coast. Although he felt mentally calm, about halfway up the stairs, he felt his legs shaking.

Really? What the hell was wrong with his body? There was nothing to be afraid of, why was it doing this? The after-effects of the adrenaline that had shot through his body when he ran to the ground station most likely. Great. Just what he needed. He could hear Jon's smug voice in his head now, talking about the "power of fear over the mind and body." And as much as the idea annoyed him, he couldn't help but admit that the idea of sitting in their small hideaway and listening to one of Jon's lectures sounded almost soothing now.

He blinked. Jon's lectures about fear. Maybe they would be useful? What had Jon said about controlling fear? A lot. It was basically all he talked about (that and his rather eccentric hobbies). Luckily, Edward's infallible memory stored all of that information perfectly, regardless of how interesting it was. Edward quickly ran through the information he had amassed about Jon's research and theories regarding the management of fear and panic. Breathing techniques and mental exercises. He hadn't asked for details on the mental exercises, and he supposed he didn't have time for those anyway, but Jon had described the breathing techniques.

It involved making a familiar, habitual motion, while taking a deep breath and attempting to slow one's thought process and balance out the panic with logic and reality. The motion was meant as a distraction, and also a source of comforting normalcy, while deep breathes preventing hyperventilation and true panic. With the mind momentarily calm, one could attempt to think through the situation reasonably.

Edward reached up and readjusted his tie, then straightened his coat as he took a deep breath. He was almost done. He only had half a set of stairs left, then all he had to do was wait until the guard's back was turned, climb up to the roof of the station, and put the trophy down. Getting back would be easy. He wouldn't have to worry about noise as much once he was down the stairs, and he'd already made it past the security sweeps once.

Edward smirked a bit as his legs stopped shaking. Everything was going to be perfectly fine. He stopped once he had a view of the landing. He watched as the guard leaned back and forth, surveying the grounds. It was the same pattern he'd viewed before. When the guard was looking away, Edward would have the chance to run past him to the station. Once Edward was directly behind him on the other side, the guard wouldn't be able to see him, so unless Edward made any noise, he wouldn't have to worry.

Edward's eyes narrowed: he was done wasting time because he was scared. As soon as the guard looked away, he made his way (as quietly as possible) behind the station. He could see the guard clearly through the metal grating that surrounded the station. His back was still turned and he hadn't seemed to notice anything.

Edward then turned his attention to the getting up to the roof silently. He couldn't really reach it, but perhaps he could climb up the grating and pull himself up that way? Suddenly, he heard a footstep. He looked up to see the guard, who had taken a step back from the railing and seemed to be turning around. What the hell? Of course, the Arkham guards weren't exactly known for being paragons of work ethic, he was probably taking an unscheduled break.

Immediately Edward crouched down behind the solid part of the wall. Now what? There would certainly be an angle from which Edward wouldn't be visible once the guard sat down, but he had no way of knowing what that angle would be, without being able to see him. This was bad. He didn't like having to alter his plans due to unscheduled human behavior. As he listened to the footsteps, he realized the the guard wasn't going inside the station to sit down, he was walking _around_ it on the tower landing.

This made no damn sense. But Edward supposed that was how people were. He couldn't stay here, he'd be seen, and that wasn't an option. He made his way around the corner. His best bet was to get off the landing, but knew he couldn't make it back to the stairs without being seen. What could he do? The bottom of the tower was covered in scaffolding. Maybe he could hide under the tower itself?

He slid under the railing and hung off the edge for a moment. He shimmied over to one of the large metal beams that supported the tower and wrapped his legs around it before letting go to grab it with his hands. As he did so, however, the trophy that he had clipped to his belt hit the bar, making a loud clanking noise. Edward winced for a moment, looking around as he heard the guard's quickened footsteps make their way over to the ledge.

Edward made his way through the scaffolding until he was under the center of the tower, where the guard wouldn't be able to see him if he leaned over the edge to look. He was breathing heavily again, and he had been afraid. But, somehow, he also felt a sense of accomplishment. There was a rush to barely getting away like that. He unclipped the trophy to look at it, it seemed fine. He turned the gear at the bottom to make sure it still worked, smirking a bit as the light came on.

Edward held onto one of the bars as he leaned out to look down at the grounds. He supposed he could see the appeal of this sort of thing. _He_ certainly wasn't going to make a habit of it, but he could see why someone with Jon's talents would enjoy scaling tall, dangerous buildings, there was a distinct sense of superiority that came from it, and Edward supposed that not everyone could get that satisfaction through intellect alone.

Now, all he had to do was figure out how to get back up to the tower without being seen now that he could no longer predict the guard's movements. The guard would have to go back to his security sweeps eventually. All Edward had to do was wait for him to do so, then he would sneak back up there and place his trophy. Perfect.

**Jonathan's POV**

Jonathan sighed as he saw a faint green light emanating from under the guard tower as he leaned over the edge. Really? He'd turned the damn thing _on_? Edward really didn't understand the whole"sneaking" concept very well. Then again, he'd gone out for his "stealth mission" dressed in a bright green and purple suit. He'd seen the Joker be more subtle.

To be fair, Edward had done a halfway decent job, given the circumstances. Jonathan had seen him as he sprinted to the to the ground station, but only because he'd known where Edward would be coming from and had watched the pathway instead of following the sweep pattern he'd been tracing with the rifle. And while he'd turned the light of the trophy on, he was far enough under the tower that Jonathan couldn't see him. Still, Jonathan had heard him when he'd come up onto the landing, (although he doubted the Arkham guards were as aware as he was).

Still, this whole thing was insane. Who the hell did Edward think he was? Batman? In a way, Jonathan hoped so. Watching Edward, while he was convinced that he was Batman, promised to be rather entertaining. Then again, it would probably mean more chores like this that Jonathan would have to preform in order to keep up the delusion (not to mention, keep him alive).

In retrospect, Jonathan realized he should have just hidden the damn trophy himself. Sure, he would get the opportunity to scare Edward out of his mind before this ordeal was over, and there was even a (rather remote) chance that Edward would learn a lesson from it, but it still probably wouldn't be worth it. Eventually, the guard Jonathan had knocked out and left in only his undergarments in a closet in Intensive Treatment would wake up, and realize that one of the inmates had gotten loose. And not just any inmate, a functional, dangerous inmate capable of taking out one of the guards without being noticed.

Of course, Jonathan had considered killing him. But once a guard disappeared or was found dead, that would only make the hunt for an escaped inmate all the more intense. It really was a mess, but maybe if he scared Edward _enough_, he would realize that he was being ridiculous and stop.

Jonathan realized, however, that he was shooting himself in the foot by doing this. After all, he was revealing to Edward that he was more than capable of hiding the trophies himself. Then again, Jonathan's primary worry before had been being _seen_, not being _shot_. He supposed it wouldn't be the end of the world, even if he was seen. He could just get recaptured and then escape onto the grounds again right before Joker's plan began. That would be relatively easy.

It was quite a bit of hassle and he doubted Edward appreciated it. Jonathan supposed that wasn't new, though. It wasn't as if he was foolish enough to expect gratitude from Edward Nigma. Still, it was rather irritating how utterly impractical Edward could be for the purposes of form or aesthetics. Jonathan understood beauty, but it had a time and place: and that time and place was _not _while hiding gaudy, neon trophies around grounds of Arkham Asylum. It wasn't just the trophies though, it was everything.

The impracticality came through in every aspect of his life. His clothing was a good example. The man had ordered a custom, question mark shaped tie clip, but he didn't even _use_ it. At least, he didn't use it as a tie clip. He just put it on his tie so there would be a question mark on it, it didn't pin his tie to his shirt like it was designed to. Before Edward had bought the tie clip, Jonathan had barely even noticed how often his tie would hang down in the way when they were trying to work together.

But now, it annoyed Jonathan to no end. The man was _wearing_ a tie clip! There was no reason for his tie to be getting in the way now. Every time Jonathan saw the bright purple fabric pooling on top of a sheet of notes or equations, he just wanted to grab it; and then tighten it around Edward's neck until he understood the true function of tie clip. He had gotten into the habit of just moving it out of the way, and hoping Edward would take the hint (but he knew it was an empty hope).

It was petty and passive-aggressive, and not at all Jonathan's usual style. In fact, it was the sort of immature social interaction that Jonathan loathed, but Edward just seemed to bring those traits out in people. Edward pushed patience to the absolute limit, and then, he pushed some more. Jonathan was surprised that none of the guards had ever lost it and just beaten him to death. That, though, was another reason Jonathan had been forced into this little ruse. If any of the guards had the opportunity to kill Edward, Jonathan was sure they would take it.

As a psychologist, Jonathan found Edward's utter lack of awareness in regards to other people fascinating to watch. It was never clear if he didn't _know_ what upset people, or if he simply didn't _care._ Presumably due to his constant obnoxiousness, he didn't really have any friends amongst the other Rogues, but, to be fair, he didn't have any enemies either. Jonathan had never heard of him betraying anyone, but he also hadn't heard of anyone getting close enough for him to do so. All of the others did seem to dislike Edward on a personal interaction level. Although if that was simply due to Edward's rudeness, Jonathan wasn't sure that made sense; it seemed odd that politeness had become a required element in super-criminal society.

Perhaps it was because Edward played a different game than the rest of the Rogues. To be fair, while Jonathan had never heard of any of them working with Edward directly, he was having just as much trouble coming up an example of someone who had never turned to Edward for _anything_. Edward's vast control of information and diverse spy network made him an invaluable resource. His lack of overall concrete goals was probably the reason he and Jonathan were able to work together, both of their plans (if they could be called that, even) were more on a long-term scale. That, and the remarkable patience Jonathan had acquired during his time as a therapist.

Jonathan walked back inside the guard station and sat down. The uniforms really were rather uncomfortable. Back when Jonathan had been Arkham's chief psychiatrist, the low quality of the guard uniforms had been a frequent complaint of Security Chief Cash at board meetings. Jonathan had always endeavored to silence such complaints as quickly as possible. From his perspective, the guards (with their weapons, kevlar, radios and other equipment) already took up far too large a portion of the asylum's rather meager budget. A budget Jonathan had needed for research.

The knowledge didn't really change his opinion on the matter, but he supposed it was good to know that their complaints were valid. It was almost remarkable really, how a fabric could be so cheap and thin, and yet so itchy at the same time. It was almost as if it was _designed _to be as uncomfortable as possible. And Jonathan didn't have high standards for comfort: his skin was accustomed to burlap.

Jonathan blinked a few times. Was he really thinking about the fabric of the Arkham guard's uniforms? Why hadn't Edward done anything yet? Jonathan would have heard him move if he had, so he clearly hadn't. This was ridiculous. Jonathan had been patient enough with Edward for one day. If Edward wasn't going to move on his own, perhaps Jonathan could give him a little scare. He leaned down to pick the rifle back up, pulling the trigger as he did so, causing a loud gun shot to cut through the still twilight air. Now, _that _would get his attention.

**Edward's POV**

Edward turned the trophy's light off again, and clipped it back onto his belt, as he considered his course of action upon hearing the guard walk back into the station and sit down. He could probably climb back up now, but there was still no way for him to know which direction the guard was facing, and if he stood up and was seen, it was all over.

He could drop to the ground. A fall from this height would injure most people, his rather unconventional athletics training had included safely landing after falling from great heights (he'd thought it might be helpful for his escapology work). From the ground he could use the zooming feature he'd built into his spectacles to get a closer look at the guard. Maybe that was the right idea. He could—

The unexpected sound of the gunshot ripped through Edward's thoughts. Edward jumped at the noise, which given his rather precarious position, had been ill-advised. He immediately lost his footing and began to fall. He was only falling for a few moments, however before he was stopped, rather painfully, but a force around his neck.

Edward looked up to see that his body was suspended from the scaffolding by his tie. He reached up to try to reach the scaffolding to pull himself back up. His fingers could reach it easily, but he couldn't get enough leverage to actually pull up his own weight. He grabbed the fabric of the tie in the middle to try to relieve the pressure on his neck so he could think. He tried pulling it down for a moment, but he knew that was futile, the tie was a thick, pure silk: he couldn't rip it with his bare hands. Ironically, at the time of purchase, he'd considered its durability to be an advantage.

Edward wondered if he had anything on him that could cut through the fabric, he could still land safely if he fell. He didn't. He wasn't a common pickpocket, after all. Still, he inwardly cursed himself for his lack of foresight. What sort of super-criminal went out completely unarmed? And the idea that intellect _was_ his weapon of choice sounded rather stupid in the context of his current situation. Carrying a knife wouldn't have diminished that, after all.

He couldn't die like this. Strangled to death under the guard tower of Arkham Asylum on his own tie. It was humiliating. He was Edward Nigma! Quite possibly the smartest person on the planet. He couldn't let this happen. Was there anything else he could do? He glanced down at the ground to try to think when he noticed the trophy still clipped to his belt.

They were made of neon lights, but the glass used in their construction was highly durable. Yes, getting green neon question-marks made out of glass designed to be more resistant to breaking at a molecular level had been expensive, but it had been necessary. He didn't want one of his trophies destroyed by a stray bullet (or Batarang). Edward unclipped the trophy and reached up to hook the curve of the question-mark around the scaffolding. He then used it to pull himself back up onto the metal bar, where he managed to free his tie after a few minutes. It was rather remarkable how little damage the tie had sustained, he supposed that was what he got for buying designer.

Why the hell had the guard fired his gun? Perhaps he'd thought he'd seen something? Had he managed to glimpse Edward before he'd gotten underneath the tower? As he clipped the trophy back to his belt, he realized that his hands were shaking again. Great. He thought he'd fixed this. He took a deep breath and adjusted his clothing again. He reached up to adjust his hat, however, upon doing so, realized that it was gone. Damn.

He looked down at the ground below him, his hat had either rolled or been blown out beyond the cover of the guard tower. Recovering it wasn't an option. He just had to hope no one saw it and realized he was out on the grounds. It was just a hat, after all. Still, he couldn't stay close to the guard tower for long. If he was going to jump down, now was the time. But what about the guard? He had no evidence that the guard had seen him. Perhaps he'd fired his gun because he'd seen something else entirely. Still, it was risky. Perhaps he should simply give up.

But he couldn't do that. He barely had enough time to hide all the trophies as it was, especially if Jonathan wasn't going to help him. He couldn't afford to get nothing done tonight. Edward took another deep breath, and steadied himself before jumping off of the scaffolding.

**Jonathan's POV**

Really? Still nothing? He'd been sure the gun shot would get Edward's attention. He hadn't fallen off the scaffolding of the tower to his death. Jonathan would have heard that. Besides, although Edward was no great athlete, Jonathan was fairly certain he could handle jumping off of the tower without getting himself killed.

Suddenly, he heard a communication come over the radio he'd placed on the counter. "North One to North Two, why did you discharge your weapon?"

Jonathan had been wondering how the other guard would respond. He hadn't really been worried about it, but he had wondered about it. He picked up the radio, and cleared his throat changing his voice to something that sounded a bit more normal than his natural voice. "North Two to North One, it fired when I picked it up, I'm taking it apart now to take a look at the problem."

"Yeah, cheap-ass pieces of crap. Alright then, if you need help let me know."

"Will do. Over and out." Clearly the fact that the other guard didn't recognize the voice on the other end was not a cause for concern. Edward had a point: they were idiots. He set the gun on the desk, and began to listen once again for any sign of Edward's movements. A few moments later, he heard a something hit the ground. It was soft. Presumably, Edward had (finally) decided to jump down.

Jonathan walked over to the edge of the landing and leaned over the railing. As he looked down, he noticed something on the ground next to the tower. He blinked a few times. He'd worn the hat, too? Jonathan hadn't seen him closely enough when he was running to really notice. At that point, Edward had just been a sprinting green blur. Why the hell had he done that? Just to leave evidence of his little escapades out for the guards to find in the morning? It wasn't exactly as if that many people _wore_ green bowler hats. Edward had escaped weeks ago, right now, no one thought he was on the island.

After Jonathan's little game with the guard,security would go looking for evidence of an inmate escape, and if they found Edward's stupid hat, it wouldn't matter if they caught Jonathan, they'd _know_ Riddler was loose on the grounds as well. This was _not_ good. He was sure Edward could still get back out if he wanted to, but he wouldn't leave until he'd hidden all of his stupid trophies, and if they knew he was out, that would become almost impossible for him to do. It had been bad enough when he'd been risking his safety for Edward, now he was going to have to risk his safety for Edward's _hat._

That was it. Edward was _learning_ a lesson. Sure, most of his psychiatrists seemed to think that was impossible, but Professor Jonathan Crane had never encountered an unteachable student. As a professor, he had learned that students were like horses, some took to training well, others had to be broken. It was, however, both illegal, and often unwise to break people with pain. Besides, people broke easiest under fear.

Jonathan smirked as an idea hit him. It was ludicrously simple, and it would certainly scare Edward. If Jonathan was going to get a point across, this was probably the way to do it. And it would take care of the other guard at the same time, so they could move freely. He watched as Edward crept back onto the tower steps and began to climb them. Jonathan picked the radio back up. "North Two to North One: could you come over here and give me a hand with this gun?"

"North One to North Two: no problem, I'm on my way."

"Thanks. Over and out." Perfect.

**Edward's POV**

Edward attempted to keep his breathing steady as he made his way back up the tower steps. He had to do it right this time. He wasn't sure he could handle going through that again. And he certainly _wasn't _putting any more of these on top of guard towers. He had to place this one, because it balanced out one he'd already hidden, but no more. The silence of the increasingly dark evening was almost unsettling, in the wake of the gunshot, the ambient sounds of the wind, sea and the generators that powered the Asylum seemed to have all faded away, and he now winced at the sound of every step he took.

He was almost done, and then he could go back to the hideout, getting there would be easy in comparison to this. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to be afraid of. He stopped as he reached the top of the landing and looked up. The guard was in the tower, facing out away from the stairs. Edward kept low to the ground and crept along the wall of the enclosure. Now all he had to do was climb up silently, and he would be done.

Suddenly, he heard something. Footsteps, coming from behind him. No. That was impossible. He glanced back down at the stairs to see another guard walking up. For a brief moment, Edward felt his mind go completely blank. What was he supposed to do now? He quickly made his way around to the back of the station. He pressed his back against the wall and closed his eyes for a few moments as he heard the guard walk up onto the landing and then into the enclosure.

"So, you're having an issue with your gun, then?"

"Yes, I can't seem to get the clip to— did you hear that?" The voice sounded somewhat familiar, then again, Edward had been held in Arkham Asylum for a total of 24 months of his life, he supposed many of the guard's voices would sound familiar to him. He couldn't quite place it, though. Then again, he could attribute any issues with his memory to fear, which (according to Jon's lectures) could do that.

"I didn't hear anything."

"I'm sure I did. It came from over there." He heard the first guard stand up. "We should take a look around."

Edward was certain he hadn't made any sound, but then again, perhaps he had just missed it in his panic to hide.

"I'm sure it's just an animal or something."

"Still, we should at least go check. You go that way around the station, and I'll go this way. If something's out there, we'll see it."

Edward felt his heart rate increase further. There was no way he could escape. There was nowhere he could go that one of them wouldn't see him. He didn't have time to clamber back over the edge and get to the scaffolding. He couldn't just jump off the ledge either, there were rocks directly below. He couldn't get away without being seen.

But, perhaps he could get away without being shot. Only one of the guards had a functioning gun, and he was standing on the far side from the stairs, meaning he would presumably go in the opposite direction. If Edward made a break for it, he might be able to make it down the stairs, jump over the railing to safe ground and then run for some sort of cover or hiding place. He knew the asylum grounds pretty well, he could probably hide indefinitely. Was that really his best chance? In all likelihood, yes.

As quickly as he could, he bolted across the landing and down the stairs, not looking back even for a moment. He vaulted over the railing, bending his knees as he landed to absorb the shock. As he stood up, he looked around to try to decide on a direction, but what he saw caused him to freeze. The security guard that should have been running down the stairs was standing right in front of him.

"H-How did you—? That's impossible!" Edward was indigent, but also afraid. How had the guard gotten down there? Instinctively, he turned to run the other direction, surprised when the guard didn't grab him, but he didn't question it, and ran as fast as he could. A few moments later, however, he was stopped dead in his tracks when the guard appeared in front of him again.

Immediately he dropped to the ground. He wasn't getting away, and there was no point in trying. The guard didn't have a gun, but Edward was sure he was annoyed. He curled up over his knees, he assumed that he could very well be in for some sort of assault (if his run-ins with other guards and Batman were any indication).

Edward closed his eyes as reality closed in on him. He'd failed. No. This couldn't be happening. It just wasn't possible. And where was the other guard? Why wasn't he being shot at? He braced himself for an impact, but it didn't come. The guard had been right on top of him, why hadn't he been hit or grabbed yet? None of this made any sense. And how had that guard gotten in front of him? Twice? The Arkham Guards weren't trained to do things like that.

…But Edward could think of someone who was. No. It couldn't be. Could it? He opened his eyes and slowly looked up at the guard who was still standing in front of him, closely examining his face. "J-Jon?"

In response, Edward received only laughter.

**Jonathan's POV**

Jonathan couldn't help but laugh; Edward's voice expressed a combination of afraid, confused and indigent that was utterly humorous, especially given the circumstance.

Immediately Edward's eyes narrowed and he stood up, allowing him to look Jonathan in the eye. "What the hell is wrong with you? If you were going to help, why didn't you just tell me? Did you just do all of this to scare me?"

Jonathan thought about it for a moment. He hadn't told Edward he was going to help because he hadn't intended to help him. Edward had implied he was some sort of hick, and Jonathan had been willing to let him get shot. At least, for the first ten minutes. Then, he'd realized that Edward dying would cause a whole host of problems that he wasn't willing to deal with just because of a petty insult. So, he'd decided to go save him, and this seemed like the best way.

Sure, in retrospect, he could have just stalked Edward, caught him alone in a corridor and _told_ him that he would hide the trophy, but Edward wouldn't have learned anything from that experience. Although, given his tone, he hadn't learned anything from this one either.

"Perhaps. Why do you think I did it?" He was falling back on bad psychiatrist tricks. When you lack an answer, turn the question back on the patient: it will at least kept them busy long enough for you to come up with something.

"I don't know! It's not _my_ job to unwind your twisted logic! You could have gotten us both killed!"

"Possible, but unlikely. The other guard was hardly a challenge."

"And what happens when the guards wake up and realize that some inmates were loose on the grounds?"

"I've already taken that into account."

"So, you have a plan?"

Jonathan didn't answer. Getting recaptured and escaping didn't really sound like the sort of plan he wanted to say aloud. It had sounded fine in his head, but he was pretty sure Edward would think that was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard. And Jonathan wasn't too sure he'd be wrong.

Edward folded his arms, his eyes narrowing. "I didn't think so. Well, luckily for you, my brilliant mind has already thought of a solution."

Jonathan sighed. He wasn't so sure hearing _that_ was much better than how Edward would have responded to his recapture plan. Jonathan didn't bother to ask what it was, because he knew Edward was going to tell him, whether he wanted to know or not.

"The computer we stole is linked into more than the security camera grid. We can also use it to override the locks on some of the lower security cells. I'll release a few of the inmates and alter the time logs on the cameras monitoring them, to make it look as if the escape happened before you knocked out the first guard. We'll have to get back soon though, we've only got forty-five minutes before the guards do a manual check, and even _I_ need a few minutes to set up something like that."

Edward smirked a bit. "Of course, I'll go on ahead of you." He unclipped the trophy from his belt and handed it to Jonathan. "_You're_ not finished here."

Jonathan knew he should have kicked him a few times while he was still curled up on the ground. He supposed, however, it was never really too late. He reached forward and grabbed Edward's stupidly bright tie, in hopes of pulling him close enough to seriously threaten him. However, as he tried to pull on the tie, he felt an unexpected resistance.

No. It couldn't be. That was impossible. Jonathan looked down, blinking a few times in disbelief at what he saw. Edward's tie was now clipped to his shirt. Edward was _using_ his tie clip. Jonathan immediately let go of him.

Edward looked at him, obviously confused, but Jonathan spoke before he could say anything. "I picked this up when I jumped down from the tower. The last thing we need is for someone to find it." He held out Edward's hat, which he took.

Edward put his hat back on, taking the opportunity to straighten and readjust the rest of his clothing as he did so. "Right. I'll see you back at the hideout, then. I'll have the diversion taken care of by the time you get back."

"Good." Jonathan turned to walk back up the stairs of the guard tower to place the trophy, smirking a bit. "Glad to know today wasn't a total loss, after all."

**A/N: **Well, that's it. Please let me know what you thought of this. Sorry to my regular readers who are used to this being a pairing, but I thought that since the artist didn't request a pairing for the Reverse Big Bang, I should just leave it ambiguous (but I couldn't leave Crane out completely, he and Edward's interactions are the most fun). And I sort of liked having them interact in a non-romantic context.

Also, let me know if all of the settings aren't realistic/are off somehow. I did boot-up the game and run through this route (albeit, I actually _was_ Batman at the time (as opposed to Edward, who just seemed to think he was)), but I might have done something wrong in translating it into words. Thanks again for reading, please review and tell me what you thought!


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